
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10525695.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Sherlock_(TV), Sherlock_Holmes_&_Related_Fandoms, BBC_Sherlock
  Relationship:
      Mycroft_Holmes/Original_Male_Character(s), Mycroft_Holmes_&_Violet
      Holmes, Mycroft_Holmes/Greg_Lestrade
  Character:
      Mycroft_Holmes, Original_Male_Character(s), Violet_Holmes, Greg_Lestrade
  Additional Tags:
      Flashbacks, Recovered_Memories, good_ones_though, First_Love, Teen
      Romance, Summer_Romance, beach_holiday, Tagged_Underage, But_They're
      Teens_-_16/17, First_Time, Snogging, Making_Out, Flirting, Teasing,
      Foreplay, Hand_Jobs, Oral_Sex, Frottage, Peter_Is_Very_Good_About
      Consent, eventual_Mystrade, Belly_Kink, or_at_least_a_belly_fascination,
      Angst, because_there's_gotta_be_a_goodbye, And_yes_it's_sad, I'm_Sorry,
      but_not_really
  Series:
      Part 3 of Boys_of_Summer
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-02 Completed: 2017-07-11 Chapters: 8/8 Words: 10293
****** Boys of Summer (Part III) ******
by sanguisuga
Summary
     A continuation on Mycroft's recollection of the last summer before
     Uni, and of the boy that captured his heart. (Or - The One Where They
     Went On A Kinda-Sorta Date...)
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Notes
     And here is where everything is made right with the world!
     This is also where it gets dirty, but in a sweetly innocent way.
     Because we all know just how innocent my writing is. *cough*
     Kisses to all my lovelies, please comment!
They had just finished supper when the knock came. Mycroft looked up from the
table as Father turned the handle, opening the door wide in his surprise.
Looking quite smart in a pair of chinos and a polo shirt, the boy stood just
outside, his hands twisting uncertainly in front of him. Cheering internally,
Violet Holmes swiftly pulled her eldest son’s chair away from the table,
jolting him out of his silent reverie.
Without speaking a word, she handed him his windbreaker and pushed him toward
the door. Blinking rapidly, he stared at Peter’s face, only barely aware of the
hand that was being held out to him quite boldly. Taking it as if in a dream,
right under the watchful eyes of his mother and father, Mycroft stepped closer.
“Walk with me?” Peter’s voice was a bare whisper, and Mycroft could only nod
his agreement, his heart stuck fast in his throat.
He jumped slightly as he was taken by the shoulders, as his mother leant into
him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Be back by one.”
Rather startled at being given such a lenient curfew, Mycroft half-turned to
her, holding tighter to Peter’s hand. “I-in the morning?” She smiled and nodded
as his apparent date for the evening chuckled, and with that, he was pulled out
into the burgeoning night, his jacket held tight in one hand, his hopes and
dreams in the other.
Peter swung their arms as they walked, his eyes glittering in the deepening
dusk as he glanced at Mycroft, his cheeks round as he grinned at him
irrepressibly. The rain earlier in the day had left the air crisp and clean,
and the clouds had completely vanished, leaving the full moon to light their
path without obstruction. Both seemingly content to walk in silence, they
meandered along, their feet subconsciously carrying them to the pier. There
were other people scattered about, but they all seemed to have business of
their own, as none of them paid the least bit of attention to the two boys.
They kept walking, their steps echoing dully on the weathered boards until they
came to the end, to the corner where the lights just happened to be out.
Mycroft smiled faintly as he stood in the same spot that he had that morning,
looking out into the darkness as he draped his jacket over the handrail. He
stiffened as Peter moved closer, his stomach sinking slightly as he slipped his
hand free. But it was only so he could not-so-furtively wipe it on his
trousers, and Mycroft found himself giggling as he did the same.
Peter reached for him again, his fingers still somewhat clammy, but no longer
outright wet with sweat. “Sorry - nervous.”
“You?” Mycroft eagerly tangled their fingers together, hoping that his
thundering heartbeat could not be heard over the sound of the breakers.
Peter scowled at him, but there was no true anger in his eyes, only doubt and
uncertainty. “There en’t been nobody that’s turned my head like you have.”
“I don’t understand.” Mycroft shifted just a tiny bit closer, his eyes darting
over his companion’s face. “Why?”
“Dunno, really. I just - like you, I guess.” He quirked that devastating grin
at him, and Mycroft’s belly flipped uneasily. “Maybe it’s true love - like
Shakespeare, innit?”
Mycroft snorted. “At least our families aren’t at war with each other. Not that
I even know your family name.” He tilted his head imperiously. “Or any name at
all, come to that.”
“S’more mysterious that way, yeah?”
“You are an imp.” Mycroft daringly reached out, trailing just the backs of his
fingers over the boy’s cheek. “My immortal youth - my Peter Pan.”
Peter reached out to cup his jaw with his free hand, and Mycroft was thrilled
to feel his fingers trembling as he slid his hand across, his thumb brushing
lightly over his bottom lip. “My Mycroft.” He tilted his head as he shifted
ever closer, his eyes filling with a gentle fire. “May I?”
Mycroft gaped in pure astonishment, utterly taken aback by the boy’s
consideration and restraint. He tried to shake it off with humour, his voice
quavering as he attempted a saucy smile. “May you what? Ask properly, Peter.”
With a tiny growl, Peter untangled their fingers and wrapped his arm around
Mycroft’s waist, pulling their bodies flush against each other. “You infernal
pain in the arse... May I kiss you?”
“Well,  you’re  certainly no Romeo.” Still Mycroft hesitated, even as Peter’s
quiet laughter brushed over his face. As desperate as he was to take this step,
he found himself reluctant to let go of his innocence, understanding
instinctively that nothing would ever be the same after that inevitable moment.
“I’ve never - I mean...” He glanced up and down again, focusing on the boy’s
lips, so very close to his. “What if I’m not any good?”
“Then we’ll just hafta practise, yeah? An’ then maybe we’ll practise some
more.” Mycroft’s knees started to shake, and he buried his face in Peter’s
neck, humming as he was rocked gently. “C’mon now, my fine lad. May I kiss you,
sweet Juliet?”
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Before he could over-think it, Mycroft awkwardly pressed
his mouth to Peter’s, huffing breath through his nose as he kissed him
clumsily. He pulled away at the soft sound of surprise, blinking owlishly at
dark eyes wide with delight. But before anything else could be said, his Romeo
moved against him, pinching his chin and tilting it just so before taking his
lips.
Mycroft whimpered quietly as he gave himself over to Peter’s knowledge and
skill, letting him set the pace, following his lead. Perfect, oh God he was so
very perfect - especially as he disengaged their lips, lightly knocking their
foreheads together as he continued to stroke Mycroft’s face and neck. It was
simple, it was sweet, and even though Mycroft felt as though he never wanted to
move from this spot, there was a small fire in his belly that was stoked ever
higher with every soft brush of the boy’s lips.
It flared up almost unbearably as there was hot breath at his ear, a gentle nip
at the lobe that absolutely overloaded all his senses. Mycroft’s fingers
reflexively scrabbled at the ladder of Peter’s ribs underneath his shirt,
momentarily confused as to how they even got there. His head swam, and the arms
that had been cradling him so gently only a moment before tightened around him
as his knees went alarmingly wobbly.
“Here now...” Mycroft stumbled along as he was tugged at gently, sinking down
onto a nearby bench, staring at the boards underneath his feet as his jacket
was draped over his shoulders. He gratefully leant into Peter’s body as he
slipped an arm around his waist, feeling oddly small and somewhat lost. “We’ll
just take a mo, yeah?” Mycroft nodded, pressing closer to Peter’s warmth. He
shivered as there was a gentle tug on his earlobe. “That weren’t too much?”
Mycroft pulled away to look into his companion’s face, a little startled by the
worry reflected in those dark eyes. “I... I mean - nuthin’ you dun’t want,
okay? You just gotta say - just tell me to stop if you need me to.” His
expression shifted into something gentle and yet fiercely protective, making
Mycroft’s breath catch in his throat. “I dun’t want to scare you, or - or hurt
you.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     More snogging because why not?
     Please comment!
     *muah!*
Mycroft shook his head, reaching out with shaking fingers to trace over Peter’s
thigh. “I know I’m safe with you.” He tilted his head, leaning in a bit closer
as he exposed his neck. “Please. Do it again.”
“Oh. Oh, you...” Mycroft closed his eyes as gentle fingers combed through his
hair, as he felt the first tentative brush of lips against his skin. He pushed
into the low vibration of Peter’s soothing hum, shivering as he traced the tip
of his nose under and behind his ear. And then, yes, oh yes, that sharp nip,
that persistent tug and utterly maddening flicker of tongue.
Mycroft gasped as he shivered, his head once again threatening to simply float
off into the clouds as there was a soft growl and a fumbling tug at his shirt.
He blinked himself back into some sort of awareness and stared mindlessly at
the surprisingly broad fingers attempting to pull his shirt free from his
trousers.
“Please? May I - oh please.” Peter’s lips quivered against his ear, his voice
trembling with desperation. “Want to feel your lovely soft skin, oh please...”
“But...” Mycroft blinked again, poking at his chubby belly in surprise. “But
I’m...”
“Beautiful.” Peter’s eyes were clear, his face open and honest. “You are
beautiful, and I want to feel all of ya - if you’ll let me.”
Instead of answering, Mycroft shifted and wriggled, untucking his shirt
himself. He blushed and avoided Peter’s earnest gaze as he did so, awkwardly
fingering the hem as he tried to shrug. “I’ll let you.” Suddenly feeling bold,
he looked straight into the boy’s face. “I’ll let you touch me anywhere you
like.”
“Oh God.” He was swiftly overwhelmed by an all-encompassing kiss as he was
swung unceremoniously into Peter’s lap, but he didn’t care because there were
hands on his bare skin, and they were his hands, so rough but gentle all at
once, squeezing and caressing and loving the one bit of him that Mycroft had
always loathed. “Oh God, oh God...” Peter shuddered as he touched him, his lips
grazing over chin and jaw, messily smearing over his mouth. “Oh God, you feel
so - hnnnghhh...”
Mycroft writhed on the boy’s lap, wanting to press closer, wanting to lay
himself out to grant permission to touch every single inch, wanting... 
Wanting.
He moaned as he threw his arms around his neck, kissing his lips, his neck,
rubbing their cheeks together as Peter reached around to unabashedly tweak his
bum. Mycroft startled with a little giggle, but then his belly was the focus of
ardent attention again, and he was so bewildered by the boy’s absolute
fascination with it that he buried his face in Peter’s neck and simply
whimpered.
Peter’s hands smoothed up and down his back, his thumbs tracing circles on his
skin, daringly slipping just the tips of his fingers inside the waistband of
his trousers. Mycroft sat up slowly, his heartbeat still thundering in his
ears, but calming into a steady rhythm as Peter’s hands worked at him. He bit
his lip as he looked at his companion’s face, his eyes huge and dark, his
cheeks delightfully pink. He traced over his kiss-bitten lips, shivering at the
swirl of nerves deep in his chest as Peter’s hands swept over his skin, his
thumbs grazing idly over his nipples.
Mycroft’s mouth dropped open on a low moan as his body tried to register this
new sensation, his hair standing on end as there was a sharp spike of pure
pleasure zinging straight through his belly and right to the base of his cock.
He’d been assiduously ignoring the damn thing, but now it was positively
throbbing, and he knew that if he didn’t put a stop to Peter and his devilishly
wonderful hands, he would make an awful mess in his pants right then and there.
Mycroft hissed as he abruptly shoved Peter’s arms down, and although there was
a brief moment of shock registered on his lovely face, in the next moment his
mouth formed into a tiny ‘o’ of realisation. He obediently stilled his restless
fingers, simply clasping Mycroft by the waist and holding him steady as he
struggled to contain himself.
In the moment of hushed stillness that followed, Mycroft became almost
painfully aware that they were more or less out in the open for anyone to
observe. Although night truly had fallen and it seemed as though there were
very few people about, he felt his spine stiffen with anxiety as his erection
wilted quite suddenly. Peter tilted his head and gave his legs a little bounce,
making Mycroft yelp quietly and clamp his hands onto his shoulders in a bid to
stay seated.
“I know a place - where we won’t be seen.”
Mycroft rolled his eyes as the boy smirked, his eyes once again glittering with
wicked mirth. “Of course you do, you devil.” He bit his lip as Peter’s thumbs
started to work against the flesh of his belly, feeling certain bits down below
starting to perk up again. “But...”
I’m not ready, I don’t want it to be over so soon, I want this to last forever,
I don’t want to let you go, I want - I need - I love…
“Let’s walk for a bit, hm? Make it last.”
Mycroft stared for a moment, wondering if he had somehow heard him, wondering
if perhaps the same thoughts were running through his head. He let Peter guide
him, standing on shaky legs, gratefully slipping his arms into his jacket as it
was politely held out for him. He didn’t bother to straighten out his hair, nor
did he tuck his shirt back into his trousers. What was the point, when he knew
that it would all be coming undone again anyway?
In some fashion, he supposed that he was proud to be seen in a state of
disarray while holding this boy’s hand, almost eager to let it be known that
this perfect being had deigned to lay hands on him and had found him pleasing.
But for now he had to hold such thoughts at bay, and so they walked on,
tramping over the tops of the dunes, where the seagrass held the transient
earth somewhat steady. They talked as they went, about everything and nothing
in particular, Peter’s grand gestures as he told his stories so expansive that
Mycroft was very nearly pulled off his feet several times.
But he didn’t let go, no matter how his arm was swung nor fingers squeezed. He
gasped and giggled in all the appropriate places and Peter’s eyes absolutely
shone as he looked at him in the moonlight. Mycroft gazed out over the water as
they paused, realising that he wanted to feel the ocean licking at his ankles,
to marvel at the sensation of his toes getting sucked in by the wet sand one
more time before he had to leave this magical place.
Before he could blink, Peter had untangled their fingers and was crouching in
front of him. “Go on, kick ‘em off.” Nonplussed, Mycroft toed off his loafers
and shivered as the cuffs of his trousers were rolled up to mid-calf. He ducked
down to retrieve his shoes as Peter fell down on his bum and took his own
trainers off, swiftly rolling back onto his feet in one smooth movement. With a
wink and a soft shout, he ran down the dunes toward the shore.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Gee, I wonder what happens next?
     Hee! Please comment, my lovelies - it's gonna be a long week!
     *muah*
Mycroft followed at a more measured pace, laughing as Peter jumped and kicked
at the tide rolling in, immediately soaking through the trouser cuffs that he
had rolled up, but apparently not high enough. He obligingly splashed around
for a bit himself, but took a moment just to breathe and to feel the vastness
of the water spread out before him. Peter seemed to sense that he needed that
moment to himself, and he quieted down, simply standing nearby until Mycroft
turned his head to smile at him.
Holding out his free hand, Mycroft bit his lip as it was clasped eagerly,
swiftly drawing Peter in for a gentle kiss. Mycroft smiled crookedly as his
companion seemed to waver where he stood, his eyes dazed and lips turned up
foolishly. Mycroft turned and started walking back toward the pier, the tide
tickling at his feet. Once again, Peter seemed content just to be by Mycroft’s
side as he walked silently alongside him, their fingers intertwined. He made no
demands, but clearly let his desires be known through heated glances and the
occasional brushing of his lips over Mycroft’s knuckles.
Their steps slowed as Mycroft once again looked out into the darkness, only the
whitecaps of the waves washing in reflecting in the moonlight. He leant back
against Peter’s solid presence as he wrapped an arm around his waist from
behind, shivering as he kissed the back of his neck and nuzzled behind his ear
with a rather chilly nose. Turning in his embrace, Mycroft knocked their
foreheads together and breathed into the space between their bodies.
With his heart pounding, his blood racing and skin tingling, Mycroft brought
his mouth to the boy’s ear and made his demand in a hoarse whisper. “Peter.
Take me somewhere where we won’t be seen.”
Peter’s full-body shudder did not go unnoticed, since they were pressed
together so closely that it fairly made Mycroft quake as well. “Are - are ya
sure?”
“Absolutely. I want...” Mycroft blushed abominably, but he hid it in the boy’s
neck. “I want to feel your skin on mine. Please, Peter.” Mycroft hesitated as
Peter froze absolutely still, cautiously running his lips over his jaw. “And
you? What do you want?”
“That.” The boy breathed out a quiet sigh, pulling back to look Mycroft in the
face. “Oh, very much that.”
Mycroft felt his mouth turn up into a wild grin, and he laughed openly as Peter
bent at the waist and brought his hand up to his lips as a courtly gentleman
might. He was still giggling as he was towed along, nervous excitement battling
the anticipation in his stomach, the whole jumbled mass slowly resolving into a
sense of certainty.
Whatever happened from this point forward, it was going to be right, and
furthermore - fun. This entire experience had already been so much more than
Mycroft could have possibly dreamt, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that
Peter would ensure that his first time would always be looked upon with
fondness. Perhaps that was more responsibility than should be conferred onto a
seventeen year-old boy’s shoulders, but Mycroft fully believed that his impish
companion was up to the task.
He wasn’t entirely surprised to find their steps still leading toward the pier,
into the darkness underneath. Peter paused at the mooring nearest the dunes,
dropping his trainers onto a tuft of seagrass that seemed to have been
flattened down for just that purpose. He bit his lip as he reached out to take
Mycroft’s shoes, bending down to arrange them carefully next to his. Peter once
again swung their arms gently, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight.
“It’s, um - like a signal.”
Mycroft shook his head, once again pondering just how he had come to be in this
place, with this boy. “Like a tie on the doorknob, I suppose?”
Peter chuckled softly. “Yeah. We’ll be alone here. If ya...”
Mycroft swiftly put a finger to Peter’s lips, anticipating the question. “Yes,
absolutely.” He slipped around the post, tugging his companion along behind
him. “I  do  want to be here - with you.” He stopped short just inside the
shelter, looking around in slight surprise. Although it had seemed to be
utterly dark from the outside, there was a fair amount of moonlight streaming
in between the moorings. Enough so that he could clearly see the beach mat
neatly arranged on the slope, and what appeared to be a blanket or two folded
nearby. Mycroft did not allow himself to imagine just what might be on those
blankets, as this seemed to be the local ‘makeout spot’, and goodness only knew
how many people had partaken of its relative privacy.
He shivered as Peter tucked himself up against his back, wrapping one arm
around his belly and giving him a little squeeze. “Don’t you worry none. Washed
‘em myself just this afternoon.” Mycroft huffed out a laugh even as his stomach
quivered, turning his head so Peter could nuzzle against his cheek. “Thought
you might appreciate it, bein’ the fastidious critter that you are and all. An’
well, when I got word that you wanted to see me, I may have let myself hope a
bit, so...”
“Ah. So that was what Sherlock was up to this afternoon.” Mycroft smiled
against the corner of Peter’s lips. “I’ll be sure to thank him later.”
“Ah, well now - don’t let’s get carried away or nuthin’. I’m sure he was just
thanking you for your lovely gift, and if you thank him for thanking you, then
it’ll just be endless thank yous for the rest of your lives.”
Mycroft let out a spluttered giggle. “That is an excellent point, Peter. And I
must say that you are quite correct about my tendency toward tidiness - how
lucky I am that you’re so thoughtful.” Mycroft swallowed against the tremor in
his voice, closing his eyes as the heat of Peter’s body faded away from him. He
opened them again at the sound of shuffling in front of him, gulping quietly as
Peter went to his knees on the mat and reached for something just out of sight.
He tilted his head as he looked down at the cardboard box that was full of
drinks and snacks, silently marvelling at the planning that seemed to have gone
into this enterprise.
Peter shrugged as he cracked open a bottle of something fizzy and sweet.
“Figured it couldn’t hurt, and if ya didn’t want to - y’know - we could always
just sit and chat instead...”
Mycroft rolled his eyes and started to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt,
slowly slipping them free one by one. “I’m beginning to think that perhaps  you
are the one who would prefer it if we slowed down, Peter.”
The boy stared up at him with humourous defiance in the curve of his lips as he
capped the soda and put it back in the box. With his dark eyes still firmly
affixed to Mycroft’s face, he skimmed off his shirt and tossed it to the side.
“We’ll just see about that. Now you come on down here.”
Mycroft gulped again as he followed his companion down onto the mat, his
fingers still fumbling awkwardly with his shirt buttons. He avoided Peter’s
eyes as the boy stretched his legs out, leaning back on his elbows and tilting
his head to watch. Mycroft shuffled forward slightly, nudging one knee against
Peter’s leg. “I-I’m not sure...”
Peter’s bold stance softened as he sat up, patting his thighs gently. “Just
like before, when we were up on the bench. I want you right here in my lap, my
fine lad.”
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Mycroft gets a wee bit bolder...
     Please do comment - my boys need more attention!
Mycroft reached out to steady himself on the boy’s shoulders before cautiously
swinging one leg over and straddling his thighs. He watched as Peter’s fingers
deftly worked the last button on his shirt loose, his spine twisting gently as
strong hands slid around his bare middle to clasp him tight. Mycroft blinked
down at the top of Peter’s head as he mumbled something into his breastbone
before turning his cheek into him and simply holding him in silence.
Mycroft ran his fingers through Peter’s hair and cupped the back of his head,
curling in around him protectively. As startling as the physical sensations he
was experiencing were in addition to the confusingly unfamiliar jumble of
emotions, Mycroft found himself contemplating only one thing. ‘Is this truly
what love feels like?’
He looked down as Peter tilted his face up to him, beckoning him to take his
lips without saying a word. Mycroft bent down rather awkwardly to oblige,
staying up on his knees and blushing as Peter narrowed his eyes slightly.
Mycroft’s belly quivered as it was caressed, and he gasped quietly as Peter’s
hands settled on his hips and tugged downward firmly.
“Sit down, you silly thing.”  
“Oh, but...” Mycroft’s cheeks felt as though they may simply melt off his face,
not with desire, but with shame.
Peter clucked his tongue with a fond sort of exasperation. “I dunno where you
got this notion in your head that you’re some sort of galumphing elephant, but
it tain’t true.” He trailed one finger down Mycroft’s sternum, grinning as a
strangled noise passed through his lips. “You en’t gonna hurt me. Come on down
here.”
Mycroft did as he was told, letting his thighs spread a bit wider as he
tentatively settled himself on the boy’s lap, draping his arms over his
shoulders. He sighed into Peter’s mouth as he was drawn in closer, simply
sinking into his languid kisses as he was caressed reverently. He squirmed
against the tightening in his trousers as he pressed their tongues together,
sucking gently before pulling off with a little nip at Peter’s bottom lip.
“Damn.” Peter looked at him in pleased surprise, his eyes hooded with arousal.
“Quick learner.”
Mycroft smiled as saucily as he could, terribly self-conscious and hoping that
it didn’t come out looking sickly instead. “I have always been a very apt
pupil.”
Peter shook his head as he squeezed gently at Mycroft’s middle, running his
hands up his torso. “Cain’t say I’m all that surprised. ‘Course, I’m not too
slow on the draw myself.” He swiftly flicked at Mycroft’s nipples, giving one a
gentle twist, grinning fiercely at the shuddering moan he received for his
efforts.
Mycroft let out another indeterminate noise as Peter did it again, rocking
forward and grinding down onto him. In the next moment he was clasped firmly
about the middle as Peter held him fast, groaning low at the feel of his heated
skin against his. “Careful there - ‘m close.”
Mycroft grabbed hold of Peter’s hair and used it to pull his head back, dipping
down to nip at his chin and running his nose along his cheekbone. “Already?” He
sank down as low as he could on the boy’s lap, rolling his hips in tiny
arrested motions as Peter clutched at his bum, trying in vain to hold him
still.
Peter shook his head, disbelief warring the lust in his eyes. “You dun’t even
know, do ya? What you do to me...” He sighed quietly as Mycroft froze still,
his eyes wide and confused. “I been hard off and on all bloody night, you daft
thing - all sodding week, in fact!” He tilted his head, his wicked grin melting
into something soft as he looked into Mycroft’s eyes. “These past couple of
days... I knew you were watching me, love - could feel it. An’ every time you
laid these gorgeous eyes of yours on me, I’d have to duck into the water just
to keep from embarrassin’ myself. Every damn time.” Peter shifted his hips
slightly and pushed up, his eyes fluttering as he ground up against Mycroft’s
hardness. “I’ve wanked myself practically raw since first meeting you.”
Mycroft squeaked faintly and swallowed hard, unable to keep himself from
matching Peter’s movements, shivering every time their bellies rubbed together.
“I... Oh good Lord. I want to see. Show me, Peter.”
Peter released him with a low moan, falling back onto the mat and squirming
with mild desperation. “You’re free to look for yourself.”
Mycroft had to pause for a moment, just to convince himself that he wasn’t
stuck in one of his lurid fantasies, that what he was experiencing was real
life and no mere dream. But then Peter writhed underneath him, and Mycroft
abruptly felt the trembling in his fingers cease as he accepted the truth of
it. He looked down as he splayed his hand over Peter’s lean belly, tracing the
path of dark hair leading into his trousers. His natural curiosity came to the
fore as he let his fingers continue past the waistband, lightly mapping out the
impressive bulge hidden beneath, pressing his palm down and cupping gently with
his whole hand.
Peter hissed quietly, his hips bucking spasmodically. “Or... Y’know - not.
S’okay - go ahead and make me come in my pants. I got a spare pair.” Mycroft
sat back and ducked his head, his shoulders shaking as he tried to contain his
mirth. He looked up again as gentle fingers wiped at his cheeks, as Peter
cupped his face with both hands. “S’alright, love. Don’t hide yourself away
from me - laugh all you like.” Peter laid back, folding his arms under his head
as he offered up a saucy wink. “I am a very funny bloke, after all.”
Mycroft poked him in the belly. “Funny looking, maybe.” Peter affected an
outraged glare, his own cheeks betraying him as he grinned wildly. But then his
head went back as his mouth dropped open, a beautifully broken moan rising up
as Mycroft gave him another squeeze. “But this... I have a feeling that this is
simply gorgeous.” He slipped the button free and started to draw the zip down
very slowly. “I guess I’ll just have to find out for myself - as you said.”
“Hnghk.” Peter sucked in a harsh breath from between his teeth as Mycroft ran
the back of his finger up the curve of his cock over his pants. He squeezed his
head between his arms, thrashing minutely. “Do you mean to kill me? Because you
are going to kill me. Just so’s you know and all.”
Mycroft laughed quietly, shaking his head. “I mean to explore, to take my time
with you.”
Peter bucked against him as Mycroft pressed his palm down again, his teeth
digging into his bottom lip. “Time en’t something I got a lot of right now, you
tease. You can play with me all you want, but later.” Peter whimpered quietly
as he took hold of Mycroft’s wrist, guiding his hand back to the waistband of
his pants. “Please, love. Pull these down, have your look, but make it quick,
please.”
“Peter...”
“Need to feel your lovely fingers on me - need you, love.” Mycroft flexed his
fingers, slipping them underneath the waistband of Peter’s pants and trousers.
“Please.”
Mycroft nodded and tugged, biting his lip as Peter wiggled, pushing his hips up
to aid him in stripping him completely bare. He swallowed hard as he tossed the
useless bundle of fabric to the side, pausing on his hands and knees above the
boy as he took him in.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Hehehehe. Heheh... The one in which Peter makes a bit of a mess...
     Kisses!
     (Please comment!)
Peter let him look his fill, his dark eyes searching Mycroft’s face with a sort
of uncertainty, an expression that was all too recognisable as self-doubt.
Anxious to put those fears to rest, half-disbelieving that a creature of such
unparalleled perfection could even feel such doubts, Mycroft licked his lips
and breathed out, “Oh, but you are beautiful.” Mycroft’s fingers once again
began to tremble as he stroked Peter’s leg from knee to thigh, as he swept his
palm over his lower belly. He swallowed again as the boy made an anguished
sound low in his throat, his hips jerking reflexively.
Mycroft took in a deep breath before slowly slipping his hand underneath
Peter’s hard prick, cradling it gently as he perused it in the moonlight. Not
that he had really done a detailed examination of his own penis, but this one
was definitely thicker, a much more satisfying weight in his hand. He closed
his fingers around it and slid his thumb up and over the slit, rubbing the
clear pre-ejaculate all around the head and making it glisten rosily. Mycroft
looked up into Peter’s adorably squinched-up face, grinning wickedly as he
realised that he was holding his breath in an attempt to stave off the
inevitable.
Stroking him lightly, marvelling at the feel of the silky-hot skin in his hand,
in the firmness of the tissue and easy glide of the foreskin, Mycroft leant
forward and pressed his lips to Peter’s. The boy gasped into his mouth as he
took in air, suddenly looping one arm around Mycroft’s neck to keep his mouth
within easy kissing distance. Mycroft ducked down low, all too willing to be
snogged nearly blind as Peter pushed up into his grip, the hot head of his cock
glancing against the quivering flesh of his belly.
Peter gave out a little shudder every time it happened, small grunting moans
breaking through with each thrust. Mycroft glanced down between their bodies,
his eyebrows raising before settling his body down just a bit lower. He kissed
the skin of Peter’s neck, nipping at his jaw and ear as he wriggled against
him. “You - you really like that, don’t you? My s-stomach.” His belly swirled
with nerves as Peter nodded blindly, his moans turning into whimpers. Blinking
in disbelief, Mycroft took in a steadying breath as he tightened his grip and
lowered his voice. “You want to make a mess on it, don’t you, Peter?”
Peter’s eyes flashed open, and Mycroft let out a surprised squawk as he was
suddenly manhandled onto his back. The pace of the boy’s thrusts quickened as
he settled over Mycroft’s thighs, as he lifted himself up on his arms and
tilted his head down, watching intently. Mycroft obligingly switched his grip,
pressing Peter’s cock firmly into the soft flesh of his belly, quivering with
anticipation as his already frenetically uneven rhythm atop him began to
stutter even further.
“Peter.” Mycroft’s breath blew out of him in sharp gusts at every one of the
boy’s thrusts, and he reached up with his free hand to grasp the back of his
neck. “Peter, look at me.”
“Mycr-ohhh...”
Mycroft hissed and slid his hand upward, fisting at Peter’s hair.  “Look at
me.”  He didn’t give the boy the chance to refuse, pulling his head back and
forcing him to meet his eyes. Mycroft’s belly swirled with heat and euphoria at
the look he saw there, something distant and lost, something that shattered
into scintillating light as a surprisingly deep moan poured out from Peter’s
parted lips. “Got you.” Mycroft smiled through an odd welter of tears as his
fingers were flooded with wet heat, as his lover squirmed atop him, still
thrusting feebly through the dregs of his orgasm. “Oh, but I’ve got you now,
you wondrous thing.”
Peter nodded silently as his hair was released, lowering himself down until the
whole of his torso was balanced somewhat precariously over Mycroft’s, tucking
his face into his neck. He breathed out a quiet, “Yeah,” through his
intermittent tremors, scrunching down lower as Mycroft ran the hand that was
not trapped between them up and down his back. “Yeah, you do.”
Mycroft cupped his naked bottom and gave it an exploratory squeeze, chuckling
along with Peter even as he marvelled at the feel of it, so firm and smooth.
Biting his lip, he dug his nails in briefly, humming as the lean body atop him
quivered minutely. He wiggled the fingers of both hands, grinning as Peter
yelped and swiftly retaliated with a chomp at his collarbone, shimmying down
just far enough to get his lips around one unguarded nipple.
He rolled easily as he was shoved away with a short shout, flopping down on his
back and reaching for his shirt, casually wiping himself down and grinning at
Mycroft’s scrunched-up nose. Rolling onto his side, Peter leant in for a soft
kiss as he did the same for Mycroft, gently dipping the fabric in between each
sticky finger to ensure he got it all. Propping himself up on his elbow as he
tossed the soiled shirt aside, Peter ran his fingers up and down and all around
Mycroft’s belly, licking his lips in anticipation. “Now you.”
“Guh.”
Smiling shakily at Peter’s bright laughter, Mycroft felt something down below
shrivel slightly, and he mentally chided himself for his cowardice. Peter
didn’t allow him to get lost in his musings, however, leaning over and drawing
him back into a series of thoroughly distracting kisses. Mycroft was only
vaguely aware of the boy’s hand still roaming the expanse of his torso, the
sensations on the verge of being overwhelming and yet oddly distant in the face
of such insistent kisses. But when those curious fingers slipped into his pants
and tickled at his cock, Mycroft shuddered from top to toe and back again,
clutching hard at Peter’s arm to hold him still.
Peter turned a deceptively innocent look on him, his lips turned up at the
corners. “Too much, is it?”
“Devil.”
Squeezing gently, Peter pursed his lips and tilted his head suggestively.
“That’s what you get for being such a horrible tease earlier.”
Mycroft looked down and frowned as he noted that his flies had somehow been
undone without him even realising it. “How on earth?”
“I’m very talented.” Peter’s jesting expression turned a bit more serious as he
pushed himself up and slid his hand upward over Mycroft’s belly, making him
mourn the loss of his gentle and yet reassuring grip. Taking hold of the
waistband of trousers and pants, Peter tugged at them questioningly, waiting
for Mycroft’s slightly hesitant nod before firmly drawing everything downward.
Mycroft distracted himself by wriggling out of his shirt and jacket as he
lifted his hips, biting his lip as he sat up slightly and shoved everything
away, averting his eyes from Peter’s earnest gaze. Laying back again, he
reached out to caress the boy’s thigh as he knelt next to him, playing idly
with the soft wisps of hair he encountered, lightly scratching his nails over
his tanned skin. Mycroft swallowed hard at the barest hint of sound from
Peter’s lips, almost missing the soft moan that echoed in the space between
them. 
Startling slightly, Mycroft looked up into a face that was full of rapt
admiration, dark eyes wide and delighted, luscious lips that were parted and
trembling. He shivered as Peter once again ran his hands over his skin,
squeezing gently at his belly and wrapping his fingers around his hip to tickle
at the side of his bum. Without thinking, he followed the guidance of those
fingers, shifting his leg so his foot was planted on the mat, gasping quietly
as Peter reached underneath, cupping his bottom and dragging his nails up the
side of his thigh.
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Halloooo... So this is where the muse sent me this past weekend - yay
     for horny boys, amirite?
     Kisses to all my lovelies, please do comment if you are so inclined.
Mycroft spread his legs as Peter nudged his way in between his thighs, his
hands fluttering over his face and groin as if to hide himself away. He felt
his face heat almost abominably as the boy leant over and gently but firmly
took both hands in his, pressing them to the mat over Mycroft’s head. He
squirmed even as his cheeks blazed, feeling dizzy with the heat in his brain,
but he did not push back against Peter’s hold, even as he settled more of his
body weight down over him.
There was a distant quadrant of his brain that felt he should resent being held
down, that he should fight back or at the very least object. Instead he curled
his fingers around the boy’s hands, taking in a shuddering breath as Peter’s
grip shifted, as he twined their fingers together and bent down to take his
mouth. Mycroft lifted his head as Peter pulled away, trying to capture his lips
again, but the uncertain expression on the boy’s face made him pause, and he
lifted his eyebrows in a silent query.
“I’ve a notion - something I’d like to try.” Peter shrugged in a show of
nonchalance that didn’t fool Mycroft in the least. “Haven’t done it before,
leastways I haven’t done it to anyone.” His breath fluttered over Mycroft’s
skin as he lowered his head, brushing his lips over his throat. “But it felt
good - real good. I want to make you feel that good, Mycroft.” Peter breathed
out a quietly wicked chuckle, meeting Mycroft’s eyes as his fingers tightened
down. “I want to blow your fucking mind.”
Once again, Mycroft knew he should ask what the boy’s intentions were, should
interrogate him on what act and what technique he would employ, but all that
came out was, “Anything.” Mycroft nodded as Peter sucked in air, writhing atop
him. “I am yours, and you are free to do absolutely anything you wish to me.”
He nodded again as if to reassure himself, squirming as Peter’s eyes blazed
with desire, pushing up into his body. “Anything - God help me.”
“Mycroft.”
“Yes.” Mycroft obediently kept his hands pulled up over his head as Peter
trailed his fingers down his arms, cupping his face in both hands and
reverently running his thumbs up his cheekbones. “Yes, my love.”
Peter smiled down at him, his eyes somehow soft and fierce all at once. “My
fine lad, my beautiful boy.”
“Well now, I don’t know about...”
“Hush yourself.” Peter pushed himself back up on his knees, running his hands
down Mycroft’s sides. “You are the loveliest creature I’ve ever seen.” He
narrowed his eyes as Mycroft scoffed. “And by the time I’m done with you,
you’ll damn well believe me, you silly thing.”
Mycroft opened his mouth, but his objections were handily kissed away, the
boy’s soft lips and gentle nips making his brain short out. Any further words
simply floated out of his head as Peter started to move down his body, licking
and sucking and rubbing the whole way. Mycroft writhed and wriggled, pushing up
into each touch, breathing in the sea-scented air and letting out increasingly
desperate and terribly embarrassing squeaks of pleasure.
It became fairly clear what Peter’s intentions were as he continued to move
down, settling his sternum quite firmly over Mycroft’s cock and grinding down
subtly. He hummed in a thoughtful manner as he swiped his tongue over Mycroft’s
belly, looking up and winking at him as he smacked his lips together. “Salty.”
Mycroft burst into heady giggles, his thighs squeezing at Peter’s torso as he
tried to curl in on himself, striving to hide the unbecoming quivering of his
flesh. But of course the boy would not allow that, leveraging the weight of his
own body to keep Mycroft spread out underneath him until his giggles subsided,
his breath coming in short heaving gasps. Peter waited patiently until Mycroft
had gathered himself, propping his chin up in the dip of his navel and watching
his face with unfairly twinkling eyes.  
Mycroft swallowed hard as Peter once again licked at his belly, making an
exaggerated squinchy face as he waggled his tongue at him. “And who’s fault
would that be, I wonder?” 
“Yours. For being so damn sexy you went and made me lose control, you
bastard.” 
Mycroft gaped at him momentarily, his brain automatically rejecting the notion,
but his body seeming to accept the compliment as its due, as his cock twitched
heartily underneath the weight of Peter’s body. His dark eyes wide with
delight, the boy started to wriggle downward once again, nuzzling and nibbling
as he went, tossing out random words of praise. “So smart and elegant. Lovely,
creamy skin, so soft under my hands. Such a delicious creature you are...”  
Mycroft moaned unabashedly at each sound, at each touch of tongue or fingers or
lips, staring up at the underside of the pier as he struggled to contain his
careening heartbeat. He abruptly pushed himself up on his elbows as he felt
Peter’s hair brushing at the inside of his thighs, sucking in a sharp gasp as
the fiendish creature sank his teeth into the meaty flesh and sucked hard. He
hummed as he pulled away, licking at the already purpling bruise and meeting
Mycroft’s eyes sternly. “My beautiful boy. My sexy man.”  
Mycroft nodded dreamily as his leg throbbed pleasantly, his tongue pulsing
uselessly in his mouth. “Yes. I believe you - I do.” And the oddest thing was -
he honestly did. He knew that Peter was telling him nothing but the truth, that
he truly did find him desirable, that he wasn’t uttering meaningless platitudes
simply to have his way with him. Mycroft reached down to stroke Peter’s hair as
he nuzzled into his thigh, noting for the first time how smooth and firm the
flesh was, not fat and flabby as he had always perceived it to be. He watched
in wonder as Peter’s lips closed down around it, marvelling at how it was drawn
into his mouth, the pale hue going stark white as the boy sucked the blood to
the surface. 
Mycroft’s fingers closed down on Peter’s hair, making the boy yelp quietly as
he came up for air. “Peter...” Mycroft whimpered as curious fingers began to
explore his nether regions, gently plucking at the tight skin of his bollocks,
idly stroking his member, up and down in nearly ceaseless motions. “Oh God,
Peter - please.” Mycroft fell back against the mat as hot breath washed over
his bits, squirming desperately. “Whatever it is that you intend to do to me,
will you just get on with it!” 
Peter chuckled, running his nose up Mycroft’s thigh. “I want you to watch me,
love. Want to see your face as I take you apart...” 
He pressed a soft kiss to the base of Mycroft’s cock, and he very nearly came
right at that moment as he suddenly divined the boy’s intention. “Oh Christ!”
Mycroft pushed himself up on his elbows again as Peter licked up his shaft, his
tongue trembling against the hard flesh. He clenched his hands into tight fists
as Peter’s eyes met his, his lips closing gently around the head of his cock.
“Oh God oh God...” Mycroft attempted a squeaky little laugh as Peter smirked
around him, his eyes full of heat and just a bit of uncertainty. “Don’t t-think
I can h-hold on...”
Sucking lightly as he pulled off, Peter wrapped his hand around Mycroft’s cock
and gave it a slow tug. “Just a little bit, love. I want to try.” He stuck out
his tongue and licked at his treat. "Please?"
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     And a bit more filth and fluff because why the hell not! Nearly done
     with this one - only one more chapter, and then we'll be back to
     present-day Mycroft and his constipated emotions - yay!
     Kisses, my lovelies - please do comment if you are so inclined!
Mycroft nodded feverishly, his tongue gone quite numb and incapable of proper
speech. He watched with wide eyes as Peter slowly bobbed his head, keeping the
grip of both mouth and fingers light and loose. Although Mycroft was very
nearly in agony, he held himself as still as possible as the boy cautiously
tested his own limits, slowly sliding down on his cock just a bit further with
each pass. He was able to take in about half of Mycroft’s length before gagging
quietly around him, pausing with his cock still in his mouth to take in breath
until the quivering in his throat had subsided.
Sucking in a harsh breath of his own and holding it in until his head spun,
Mycroft somehow just managed to maintain his grip on his control and his
sanity. Momentarily frozen in their erotic tableau, they eyed each other
uncertainly until an equilibrium had seemingly been established, their
breathing evening out and the hectic spots of colour retreating from their
cheeks. Peter pulled off slowly, once again stroking Mycroft with a light and
almost unbearably slippery touch.
Mycroft blinked dazedly down at the boy’s hand, watching it glide over his
member, spreading the excess of his saliva around and making an absolute mess.
Mycroft’s brain stuttered, his only thought ‘so sloppy - oh but sloppy’s
good...’
“Oh, but just look at ya...” Peter smirked at his own raspy voice, his eyes
darting eagerly over Mycroft’s face. “So turned on you can’t even think right
now.” He twisted his wrist in a rather unsporting fashion.
“Asfguh.” Peter’s bright laughter echoed through the dark space, lighting
Mycroft up from the inside. Shaking his head slightly, he reached out to take
hold of the boy’s arm, squeezing it gently. “Peter...”
Peter ducked his head, his fringe falling into his face before he tossed it
back, something in the set of his mouth becoming rather determined. “Yes, love.
Promise. I just want to try one more time.”
Mycroft obligingly settled back again as Peter shifted between his legs,
sliding back up onto his knees before hunching down over him. Gifting him with
a saucy wink, he let go of Mycroft’s cock with his hand, cautiously cradling
the head on his tongue. With a deep breath in through his nose, he began to
sink down, opening his mouth wide and angling his head just so. Mycroft
practically yelped as he watched his cock disappearing nearly all the way into
Peter’s mouth, as he felt it slide right down his throat. ‘Oh bloody hell... ’
Peter looked up at him with triumph in his eyes just a moment before taking in
a bit more than he could handle, choking ferociously and letting Mycroft slip
from his mouth as he sat up, his eyes leaking tears and chin smeared with
saliva. Staring up at him wide-eyed, Mycroft could barely even think to himself
how beautiful and wild he was before Peter grinned at him wickedly and once
again bent down over him. He allowed himself no further learning curve, granted
no more gentle teases. Now there was just a firm grip, stroking in rhythm to
relentless suction and it was bare moments before Mycroft was crying out a
warning, his body convulsing as he finally climaxed, his vision whiting out
around the edges and yet somehow remaining laser-focused on Peter’s eyes.
His body was still quivering as he was released, barely conscious of the sound
of spitting and the crack of a bottle lid. Lifting one eyebrow as he turned his
head, Mycroft watched as Peter guzzled what remained of the soda he had opened
earlier. Running one hand through his hair sheepishly, the boy shrugged. “Now
that there’s a taste that’s gonna take a bit of gettin’ used to.”
Mycroft snorted and broke down into giggles, doing absolutely nothing to try
and hide his jiggling belly away from Peter’s admiring gaze. “Horrid creature.”
He shivered as he was wiped down, eyeing the boy’s soiled shirt with distaste
as it was tossed aside. “You’re going to have to bin that, I think.”
Peter chuckled, reaching around the piling to grab the blankets. He folded one
up and slipped it under Mycroft’s head to act as a pillow before laying down at
his side, unfurling the second one so that it draped over the both of them.
Mycroft eagerly rolled into Peter’s side as he settled back, wrapping his arm
around his waist and tucking his head into the crook of his shoulder. “Probably
just wind up under my bed like all the crusty socks an’ pants that my Mam
refuses to acknowledge.”
“Good God. Can’t say I blame her.”
Peter laughed again as he trailed his fingers up and and down Mycroft’s arm.
“Me either, ta be honest. I’m a beast.”
“Filthy creature.”
Peter gave Mycroft a hearty squeeze. “Aw, ya love it.”
‘Oh God, I do. I really really do.’Mycroft pressed his lips to Peter’s chest,
not even trying to fight against or hide his tears, simply letting them fall
and tasting his own misery on his lover’s skin.
“Here now...” Mycroft sniffled as Peter turned into him, cradling his face with
gentle hands, swiping his tears away with his thumbs. “What’s all this, then?”
“I will never-” Mycroft took in breath with a little sob, dropping his gaze to
Peter’s lips. “I will n-never find anyone like you again. Not ever.”
“Oh, but of course ya will, silly thing.” Peter stroked his fingers through
Mycroft’s hair and down his back, trailing them over the globes of his arse.
“You’re going to University, love. So many people to meet there. An’ then
you’ll be a big man in the big city an’ meet even more. I reckon you’ll meet
someone just as wonderful as you are an’ forgit all about me.”
“I couldn’t possibly! I - I...” Mycroft bit his lip as the words stalled in his
throat, letting them die away completely as he read the very same thing in
Peter’s eyes. “My f-first - I’ll never forget you.”
“First?” Mycroft nodded as Peter’s breath brushed over his lips, keeping his
eyes downcast. “Me too.”
Mycroft scoffed quietly. “Well now - that’s just a blatant lie.”
“No - not first this, ya ninny.” Peter rocked his hips forward, making Mycroft
gasp and shiver. His voice dropped low, vibrating into Mycroft’s chest. “My
first love.”
“Oh God - Peter, I...” Peter didn’t allow him to get much further, whether out
of pity or need, it hardly mattered. Mycroft wasn’t even entirely sure how
their legs had gotten so entangled under the blanket, but he made no move to
unwind himself as they rocked together, sweat and desire making their bodies
sweetly slippery, their lips meeting again and again as hot breath cascaded
between them. Peter nipped at Mycroft’s neck as he came up for air, digging his
nails into his bottom, holding him in place as he thrust against him
mindlessly.
Whether there was something in the ceaseless quivering of his body or in the
rising crescendo of his voice, Peter somehow knew that he was close. He drew
back just far enough to look down, to watch as Mycroft’s cock twitched and
released, striping Peter’s lower belly and groin with his come. Mycroft blinked
rapidly as Peter dabbled his fingers in it and spread it over his skin,
groaning low as he took himself in hand and looked into his eyes. Mycroft
nodded, quick and breathless, his eyelashes fluttering as he felt the hot
splashes against his belly, as he watched Peter’s mouth drop open, listening to
that heart-rending moan once again and delighting in the knowledge that he was
the cause of such pleasure.
They both marvelled at the mess they had made together, running their fingers
through it and reaching out to trace elaborate symbols over the other’s skin,
marking each other, staking a claim. Giggling faintly, Mycroft threw his arms
around Peter’s neck and peppered his face with kisses, squealing quietly as he
was manhandled onto his back.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     And here we come to the end of this portion of the story, as
     melancholy and bittersweet as it is...
     But fear not! There is a part IV wherein our heroes will be reunited,
     and I will be posting the first chapter of that right after this one.
     As always, I adore you all - please do comment if you are so
     inclined!
Mycroft sighed as Peter pushed himself up slightly, looking down on him with
vaguely mournful eyes. “It’s gettin’ late.”
Mycroft shook his head just once, pulling Peter’s face into the crook of his
neck. “Don’t care. Not gonna move. Want to stay here with you forever.”
Peter nuzzled at his skin, breathing out a quiet moan. “Well, if we dun’t at
least clean up, we will wind up stuck to each other fer quite a while, so...”
He shifted his hips meaningfully, breaking down into chuckles as Mycroft’s face
squinched up at the sensation of their bellies scraping against each other.
“Urgh.”
“Yeah.” Mycroft hissed out his displeasure as Peter sat up very slowly, both of
them wincing as their stomachs peeled away from each other. He stayed up on his
knees, perched over Mycroft’s thighs, rubbing a little ruefully at his blotchy
skin as he glanced over his shoulder at the water just yards away. Peter
grinned as Mycroft nodded, standing and holding out a hand for him to grasp to
help him get to his feet in his turn.
They paused only for Peter to sweep up his soiled shirt to act as an impromptu
flannel, walking hand-in-hand to the water’s edge. After a moment of letting it
tickle at their toes, they waded in until it was up over their waists. Mycroft
watched as Peter attempted to scrub out the crustiest bits on his shirt,
giggling quietly as he glared at him half-heartedly. After a quick rubdown,
chafing at his skin until it was ruddy and pink, Peter came to him, using one
clean corner to gently scrub the gunk off of Mycroft’s belly.
He ran his fingers over and around, a reverent look in his eyes as his thumb
skipped over Mycroft’s navel. “So soft an’ lovely - my sweet boy, my summer
love...”
Fighting back on a low sob, Mycroft pulled him into his arms, kissing him
fierce and hard, putting as much of himself into it as he could. Peter hummed
into his mouth, eagerly returning his desperate kisses, plastering their bodies
together as the water swirled around them. Mycroft didn’t know how long they
stayed there, both of them shivering in the cold water, in the night air. A
distant corner of his mind warned him about hypothermia, but he ignored it. So
what, who cared - he only knew that where Peter was, he wanted to be also, and
if that meant freezing into a solid block of ice then so be it.
It wasn’t until their chattering teeth collided rather painfully, causing them
to recoil away from each other, that they retreated back to the mat. Peter took
up the blanket and wrapped them both in it until they were dry and relatively
warm again. By mutual if unspoken assent, they did not settle back down, and
they did not engage in anything but the softest of kisses and most innocent of
touches. Once they had stopped shivering, they both turned aside to dress.
Mycroft shook his head chidingly as Peter rolled up his wet shirt and thrust it
into a plastic sack, silently draping his jacket over Peter’s shoulders.
Smiling at him somewhat gratefully, Peter zipped it up before retrieving their
shoes, sticking his trainers into the bag. He held Mycroft’s loafers in his
left hand and held out his right, waiting for him to take it before bringing
him in for a fleeting kiss. Then they left their little slice of heaven behind,
climbing the dunes and heading back toward the cottage that Mycroft’s family
had let for their holiday.
Once again walking in silence, their steps heavy and slow over the well-
weathered boards of the pier, the two boys tried to delay the inevitable,
meandering in a long, circular path from one side of the boardwalk to the
other. They swung their arms and watched their bare feet as they trudged along,
glancing up at the dark sky and over the darker water, not once looking at each
other.
Mycroft’s teeth began to chatter again as they came to the path that led to the
cottage, feeling as though his skin was aflame over a solid core of ice. He
almost felt as though he was going to be sick, even though he knew there was no
logical reason for it. He chanced a look at Peter’s face, seeing something very
similar there, a tightness around his eyes and a bit of green in his cheeks. He
tried to stop his feet from moving forward, but it was as though he had no
control over his own body. Even the hand that was holding Peter’s felt like it
belonged to someone else, that he was simply witnessing this bittersweet moment
through a stranger’s eyes.
‘I can’t, I can’t - can’t do this can’t say goodbye can’t watch him leave oh my
God I am going to be ill...’
Nevertheless, he kept walking, drawing closer to Peter as they approached the
door to the cottage. Peter offered a small, tight smile as he bent down to
place Mycroft’s shoes on the stoop, letting his bag fall from his hand. They
gravitated together, embracing under the single light, simply holding on to
each other, revelling in the heat of their overwrought bodies, breathing in the
scent of the ocean on their skin.
Mycroft whimpered as Peter started to pull away, running his hand down the
front of his borrowed jacket, grasping the zipper. “No. Keep it, please.” He
attempted a jesting smile. “Can’t have you catching cold - who will look after
your Lost Boys then?”
Peter’s lower lip wobbled slightly. “Yer mum won’t get mad?”
Mycroft shook his head and shrugged all at once. “Probably won’t even notice.
Really - it’s alright.”
Peter zipped it back up and cradled Mycroft’s face in both hands, bringing
their foreheads together. “Thank you, Mycroft. For everything - you’ve made
this my best summer ever.”
Mycroft huffed out a laugh even as he took in Peter’s sweetly-scented breath.
“You’re thanking me? It’s me who should be thanking you for your - tutelage.
You’ve been remarkably kind considering my own lack of experience.”
“I’ve been a randy bastard is what I’ve been.”
Mycroft giggled. “Well, that too. And thank goodness for it.”
Peter grinned, slipping his hands up Mycroft’s shirt and squeezing gently at
his belly. “I love it when you laugh.” He pressed a kiss to one corner of his
mouth. “I love the way you move.” Mycroft’s breath hitched as Peter’s lips
ghosted lightly over his, as he kissed the opposite corner. “I love the way you
smell.” He nipped at the end of Mycroft’s nose, chuckling softly as he went a
bit cross-eyed. “I love the sound of your voice, especially when you come - you
go all squeaky, and it is fucking adorable.”
Mycroft sputtered as his face went all hot. “You... You - devil.”
Peter slowly shook his head, kissing either cheek. “I love the silly names you
call me when you get all flustered.” Mycroft tilted his head as Peter finally
took his lips, kissing him with such sweetly fierce devotion that he almost
swooned. “God damn it all, I love you, Mycroft Holmes.”
Mycroft clutched hard at Peter’s hips, willing his knees to stop wobbling as
his head spun. “Oh God - Peter... Peter, I...”
“No.” Mycroft staggered as Peter drew away slightly, his expression something
between angry and desolate, miserable and yet determined. Cupping a hand around
the back of Mycroft’s head, he put his lips to his ear. “Greg.” He heaved out a
shuddering breath, nipping and tugging at the sensitive lobe one last time. “My
name is Greg.”
And then the warmth of his body was suddenly gone, leaving Mycroft to slump
against the door, watching his summer love walk away with bag in hand, his head
high and shoulders tight. He suppressed a sob against his clenched fist as Greg
began to trot and then to run, knowing that he was doing the right thing,
loving him all the more for being the one brave enough to leave - and for being
strong enough not to look back.
End Notes
     Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation
     definitely is!
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